PUDUCHERRY: On Puducherry’s breezy Beach Road, where tourists flock each evening for salty snacks and crashing waves, a modest vegetarian eatery functions with a dual purpose. In the evenings, it delights visitors with various fast food items and by dawn, its kitchen transforms into a lifeline, battling hunger one steaming pot at a time.
For 658 consecutive days, 38-year-old A Arun has cooked and served free midday meals to at least 150 people in need — street dwellers, daily wage earners, Narikuravas, sanitary workers, and anyone scraping by without a proper bite, through his restaurant, Sri Sai Vegetarian Healthy Foods. Every morning, long before the town stirs, Arun and his assistants fire up massive vessels bubbling with rice, sambar, rasam, kootu, and kara kuzhambu. Some days bring vegetable biryani; twice a week, he pivots to non-vegetarian options like biriyani, chicken curry, egg curry, fish curry, or dry fish curry.
“Whatever we eat at home, I give them the same food,” Arun says. “The menu changes every day. They should feel they are eating a proper meal, not leftovers.”
By noon, the meals are packed with drinking water bottles and disposable plates, then ferried to spots near Bharathi Park and other corners of town.
Arun’s drive was forged in the fires of his own childhood hunger and shame. Born in Uppalam to Albert, an ice supplier who hauled carts for pennies, and Devi, a construction worker, he grew up knowing poverty’s cruel grip. His father battled alcoholism. “My father would spend the money he earned on liquor and sometimes take away the money my mother earned,” Arun recalls. “There were days we had only one meal. Sometimes we only drank water and slept.” Desperation sent them scavenging leftovers from marriage halls or community feasts, only to be shooed away. At school, missing notebooks and ragged clothes drew ridicule and beatings. “We had to approach organisations like Voluntrait for stationery. That was our life,” he says quietly.
In Class 8, Arun started to take up odd jobs during holidays to ease the burden. At 14, his father died, thrusting the teen into supporting the family and himself to push through SSLC. Post-school, he toiled five years in a shop, still slipping food to starving strangers on the streets.
A toy shop led to a balloon cart behind the Nehru statue. Seven years of savings birthed a fast-food stall. As the business steadied, Arun channelled it into Thedal Sevagan trust. Donations trickled in — sponsored meals for birthdays, anniversaries, memorials. Yet, his own pocket funds most of it. Spotting torn clothes, he buys outfits; barefoot on hot pavement prompt shoe distributions. “I have a habit of putting aside some money from my earnings in a hundi. Whenever there is a need, I use it,” he explains.
His wife, two children, four shop assistants, and friends pitch in with cooking and logistics. Arun’s reach stretches further, shadowed by his father’s demons. He counsels alcoholics among the homeless and labourers, preaching dignity, family, fresh starts. About 20 have quit drinking on his encouragement.
Take Rathinam, (37) a barber, from Theni. Eight months ago, broken and boozing, he washed up in Puducherry. Arun fed him daily and talked him into quitting alcohol. Recently, he bought barber tools, reviving Rathinam’s trade.
Compassion crowns even endings. Unclaimed street bodies once haunted him; now he ensures dignified farewells with van transport. His ride? A gift from actor-comedian KPY Bala, whom Arun supported in tough times. Grounded amid the grind, he dreams bigger. “My aim is to construct a home for pavement dwellers living on the streets. They should have a decent place to stay and can do some work to earn their living.”
From a boy who was once chased from wedding halls to a man sustaining 150 souls daily without pause, Arun embodies quiet defiance. In Puducherry’s sunset glow, where the sea kisses shore, his kitchen whispers a truth; charity is not about handouts — it is dignity, served plate by plate, life by life, while ensuring no one in his orbit goes to bed hungry.
(Edited by Divya Ramkumar)